There and Back Again
by GloriousBlackout
Summary: Having barely survived the Battle of Five Armies, Kili chooses to journey home rather than become king and pays a final visit to an old friend along the way.


**A/N - This works as an epilogue to my story, 'The Living and Dying' but can be read separately easily enough. All you really need to know is that Kili survived the battle of the five armies while Fili and Thorin did not. Also this follows the book more closely than the last movie but only in small details.** **With all that said, I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading :D Any feedback is appreciated.**

 _ **Disclaimer: I still don't own The Hobbit. One day, though...**_

* * *

The journey homeward was a considerably easier affair than the journey to Erebor had been.

This came to the great relief of Kili. Despite having recovered well enough to travel, his dreams were still haunted by giant spiders, snarling orcs and goblin-filled caverns and he had no desire to fight through such hoards again. Mercifully, such threats had been absent on the journey home; Mirkwood's paths had been made open to them and Kili had had the good sense to keep on track, and the absence of orcs in the hills and fields made dangerous detours unnecessary. He'd even passed the clearing where three imposing statues of trolls now stood only to find children laughing and trying to climb them.

Besides, even if danger had lurked in every corner, Kili had not been alone on this journey. The two dwarf warriors Dain had provided as an escort had been welcome company on his travels. Dairn, a tall dwarf with thick red hair, passed the time by recounting tales of every battle he claimed he'd ever fought (including battles Kili knew for certain the man could not yet have been alive for), while his partner - a shorter, dark-haired dwarf who preferred to call himself 'The Wolf' - made it his mission to stop by every inn they passed and set drinking games he was guaranteed to win.

They were loud, uproarious and frankly overwhelming at times but Kili was grateful for them. They distracted from gnawing loneliness; from the instinct to make some remark to his brother only to remember that he was no longer there. They'd also helped fight against the occasional creature and bandit that still lurked along their path and Kili was sure he must owe his life to both of them by now.

As they left the Misty Mountains behind them, Kili felt a grin spread across his face as he took in the rolling hills and green fields of what he knew to be The Shire. He'd been a mere child the last time he'd been here, eager to set out on the quest and prove himself to his uncle. Now, however, the quiet breeze and quaint hobbit holes they passed were almost tempting and the sight of villagers in their gardens and gathered at a market – continuing with their ordinary lives – was enough to make Kili's heart ache with longing.

He ignored that, however, and rode onwards, greeting those he met with a smile he hoped would distract from Dairn and The Wolf's guarded scowls. His pony whickered happily as they wandered through roaming fields and proper roads, likely grateful for terrain she had been accustomed to before their painfully long journey. Kili petted her mane in sympathy.

It wasn't long before they reached their destination; the quiet hobbit hole where Kili had spent a night barely three years before. The dwelling was so quiet that Kili feared for a moment that their burglar had never made it home, but the sight of vegetables growing in the tended garden and a slight flicker of movement behind the window reassured him. He dismounted his pony and gave his companions two gold coins and an instruction to find somewhere they could rest for the night and, at Dairn's gruff reply of "Right you are, lad," he turned to face the green door from his memories.

It took three insistent knocks, spread out over a few seconds, before he finally heard noises from within and the door swung open to the rather agitated mutterings of "and if you're _quite_ ready to return my vase-"

Bilbo stopped as he finally took in his visitor and his expression froze into one of almost comical shock. It took Kili's quiet "Hello Mr Boggins" for a smile to break across the hobbit's face and he pulled Kili in for a surprisingly strong hug as he let out a disbelieving laugh.

"Kili! Oh, I thought... I was afraid that-" He stepped back and hurriedly studied Kili in his entirety as if worried a part of him was broken. Kili understood his concern; he'd still been critically wounded and unconscious around the time Bilbo had left Erebor. Most of the company had feared he would die and it was only through sheer force of will that he'd eventually woken. Kili doubted there'd been time for Bilbo to receive that news in the months between then and now.

"You weren't alone in that," Kili admitted, remembering his company treating him as if he were incredibly fragile before he'd snapped and told them to cut it out. "I must have been the biggest lost cause in the kingdom for a time."

Bilbo's features creased in what might have been pain before he clapped Kili on the shoulder in an attempt to regain composure. "Well you're on your feet now, that's good... Oh, I'm forgetting myself, come in!"

At the invite, Kili stepped over the threshold into the warm corridors of Bilbo's home. It was almost exactly how he remembered; the welcoming halls, the warmth from a fire burning in another room, the wooden furniture that the hobbit had once taken such pride in. Kili cringed slightly at the memory of wiping his feet on one such item but Bilbo didn't seem to begrudge him for that as he led him through to the inviting lounge and hastily removed an open book from a chair.

Kili was glad to see signs of a peaceful existence all around him. Read books were piled high on the floor and mugs of tea sat on the small table between two chairs. And yet, displayed proudly in the corner of the room, sat Sting. It seemed that Bilbo had not forgotten his adventures any more than the rest of them had, even after his many vocal yearnings for home.

Bilbo set off with two empty mugs to prepare some tea, refusing the offer of help when Kili made to follow. "You've had a tough journey, you're allowed to rest," he called back from the next room and the dwarf was too weary to argue. He sank into a chair and had to resist the urge to nod off before Bilbo returned with two steaming mugs and placed one in Kili's hands.

"It is good to see you, truly," he said as he took a seat himself, looking happier than Kili had seen him in a long time. "I've missed you lot more than I care to admit. I spent so long dreaming of home yet now I'm here I feel like I'm itching to take off again. So much for peace and quiet."

Kili laughed and sipped at his tea, wondering if such temptation was to be his fate when he finally reached Ered Luin. "I would give it some time yet. Adventures are exhausting business."

"They most certainly are," Bilbo agreed. His gaze had dropped to his hands folded in his lap and his voice had quietened somewhat. Kili thought he knew the reason. "I'm so sorry for your losses, Kili. It was unfair, your brother was too young..."

Kili couldn't speak for a moment and so simply turned his attention to the flickering fire. It _had_ been unfair to lose them both and be left alone, and a numb pain still spread throughout him at the reminder of his brother and uncle. At least he'd been present when Fili fell; shivering from the pain of his own wounds as his brother's eyes dimmed. He'd been at death's door himself when Thorin had succumbed to his wounds but by all accounts he'd heard, Bilbo had been there to provide comfort to his uncle. Kili was grateful for that at least.

"I miss them," he admitted, not turning to face Bilbo quite yet. "It is easier now than it was but I keep expecting Fili to tell a joke or for Thorin to reprimand me for something." Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw Bilbo tense. He took a breath and faced the hobbit with a small smile. "That's why I'm heading home. My mother's still there; it'll do us both good to see each other, I think."

Bilbo nodded, seemingly grateful for the change in topic. "Yes, I imagine so. Do you think you'll ever go back?"

"One day, yes," Kili said. The long journey had given him time to ponder this decision further but in the end he knew he was always going to return. "By rights I should be King Under the Mountain. Perhaps I would be now if I felt even remotely ready."

In his absence, Kili had allowed Dain to take the crown on the promise that he would rule fairly and try to avoid the lure of the mountain's hoard that had already consumed many with greed. The other members of the company had some qualms with the man but Kili could not ignore the fact that Dain had come to their aid and fought for them at a time where it mattered most. "In the meantime, Ered Luin is missing a leader. I thought... well, it'd be a start. A chance to learn at least. I imagine I'm more well known in the Blue Mountains than I am in Erebor; I'd feel more comfortable ruling there for now."

Bilbo seemed to approve, if his growing smile was any indication. "Well, if you ask me, I think you'll be a great king one day."

Kili felt an urge to laugh but there was a sincerity in Bilbo's voice that stopped him. For a moment he could almost believe that the hobbit was right but he knew it would be a good few years before he ever got the chance to prove it. Finishing his tea in one gulp, he set the mug aside before leaning back in his chair and facing his host. "Aye well, enough about me. How has home-life treated you?"

In the hour or so that followed, Kili got treated to many tales detailing everything from the loyal following of younger hobbits Bilbo had acquired, who desperately wanted to hear stories of his adventures, to the disapproval of his peers. He learned that Gandalf apparently dropped by on occasion, bringing with him spectacular firework displays, and Bilbo's neighbours had now resorted to throwing him disapproving glances as he passed – looks he happily ignored.

Then there was Bathilda. According to the hobbit she was a plump, irritable woman from down the hill who, to this day, refused to return his vases and wooden chest with all its contents; items she'd taken in his absence under the assumption that he was dead _("I mean I'm long past caring at this point but honestly, the nerve of that woman...")._

The skies darkened without either of them realising it and Bilbo's stomach giving a demanding growl signalled that perhaps they should get up. Kili felt a stab of regret at that; the cushioned chair was a vast improvement to a pony's back and beds of grass. At least there was an inn and a feather-bed awaiting him tonight. He was almost tempted when Bilbo offered to let him stay for the night until he remembered his travelling companions. "I'm afraid not. I brought some friends with me and I'm not sure I trust them on their own."

At Bilbo's barely hidden disappointment, he assured the hobbit that he'd pass by his home on the morrow to say farewell which seemed to improve his mood. Then, with one last tight hug, he left Bilbo to the comforts of his home and stepped out into the night.

Dairn and The Wolf were predictably nursing pints of ale at the small tavern they'd chosen on the outskirts of the village. Kili left them to it in order to feed his pony some carrots he'd plucked from the fields and paid the stable-owner some silver for taking care of her. By the time he approached the warriors they seemed to be judging who could juggle the most knives without losing a finger.

They abandoned that game at the sight of their prince and greeted him with the welcoming grunts Kili had grown used to. "Drink up, my friends," he said as he sat at their bench. "I have an important task for you two before we leave here tomorrow."

Dairn downed his remaining ale in one go before wiping his fire-red moustache and studying Kili with his small black eyes. "Whatever you want, lad," he said in a voice that may have sounded harsh if Kili hadn't come to know him so well. "We'll do your biddin'"

The Wolf gave a huff that Kili assumed to be an agreement. As the dwarf's face was mostly hidden behind wild black hair, it could be hard to tell how he truly felt.

"There's a woman in the village named Bathilda. All I know is that she lives near the bottom of the hill but if you ask around, _politely-"_ That inflection was aimed at The Wolf, who was starting to look too eager for Kili's taste. "I'm sure you'll find her. I want you to remind her that she has some possessions in her home that belong to Bilbo Baggins and ask her if she'd be kind enough to return them by morning."

Dairn listened intently and Kili saw that he was now fondly twirling one of his knives between his fingers. "I see. Tha' should be easy enough, shouldn't it Wolfie?" His companion nodded happily. "And if the lady should be so rude as to refuse us, should we, er, use force lad?"

"No!" Kili practically hissed, to the annoyance of a nearby patron. The Wolf swore under his breath in Khuzdul.

"However," Kili went on, knowing the perfect way to tempt his companions. "Some mild threats may suffice. Just make sure she remembers that Mr Baggins has his share of powerful friends."

* * *

Sure enough, as they set off through the village the following morning, a small pile of belongings including a wooden chest and a pair of blue vases sat at Bilbo's door. The hobbit himself was looking down at the pile in awe and Kili laughed as he stopped outside his garden and approached him.

"You didn't have to-" Bilbo began but Kili simply made a dismissive gesture in response. The loyal burglar had earned a favour after all.

"It was nothing. My friends appreciated an opportunity to be useful anyway." Perhaps too much, Kili thought. They'd passed by what appeared to be Bathilda's home on their route and, at the sight of his companions, the woman had gasped loudly and hidden herself behind a tree. The Wolf was still trying to conceal his laughter. "Besides, I wanted to stop by. There's something I thought you should have."

Kili reached into his cloak and pulled out a rolled-up piece of parchment before holding it out for the hobbit to take. "Ori left me some drawings before I left. I thought you might appreciate this one."

Curious, Bilbo unrolled the parchment and gave a small gasp at the lifelike image of his face printed on the page. "Thank you. Truly, I-" The rest of the words caught in his throat and he looked up at Kili instead, his eyes watering slightly.

Kili held out his hand and Bilbo shook it firmly, gripping the parchment in his other hand as if it was something precious. "Well, until we meet again, Bilbo."

"Sooner rather than later, I hope," Bilbo replied with a small laugh before letting go and turning back to the neat pile of objects at his feet. Kili took that as his cue to leave and made his way back to his companions, taking the reins of his pony to lead her onwards. They set off after Kili called back a final farewell and ignored the slightly apprehensive glares from other villagers until they reached the quiet woods.

Kili felt better for having spoken to Bilbo. He'd missed the burglar more than he'd realised and it was good to see that the hobbit's dreams of peace and quiet had come to fruition in spite of the troubles he'd faced. He thought back to the people they'd been on the night they'd met; an excitable boy and a hobbit who preferred reading about adventures to actually embarking on them. A lot had changed, not all for the better, but at least Kili felt he'd made a valuable friend along the way.

Those thoughts were interrupted as The Shire lay far behind them and he could see familiar mountains looming in the distance. The events of the last three years vanished at the sight and he could almost hear the activity of nearby mines and his mother calling for him and his brother to come home for supper ringing out in the air.

Kili smiled, despite the pain that accompanied such memories. Such pain could not bother him now.

He was home.


End file.
